


Can't Be Bothered

by brigitwritesstuff



Category: I Made America (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, is he fishwife or handler, lmao what even is the handler's tag, the world may never know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6868387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brigitwritesstuff/pseuds/brigitwritesstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I should probably be doing homework but I'm gonna write about trying to teach John Adams what a cell phone is instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Be Bothered

          The Handler was, needless to say, John Adams' least favorite person. And there was some pretty stiff competition for that spot. So much so that even just the kidnapping wouldn't have done him in. It was everything he did after that.

          He was a kiss-ass. Too much of one for even John Adams.

          One Sunday evening, while he sat at his "new home" and stressed about not attending church, The Handler came over to ~~bother~~ teach him about modern technology. He was very excited to be back. The founders were his heroes.

          That time, he was determined to show him how to make calls. He'd brought some old phones to show him examples. The whole morning he was rehearsing how he wanted it to go.

          So John answered the door to The Handler smiling wide and carrying a rotary dial in his arms like a child. He was skeptical and amused at the same time. "Um, hello."

          "Hi! I have something new to show you today! I think you'll like it!"

          "Will I?"

          "You will, I'm sure!" He invited himself in and placed the phone on the kitchen table. "Over here!"

          Reluctantly, he followed along and entered the kitchen too. He was busily untangling the chord. "This is a telephone!"

          "Ah." He took a seat. "Benjamin Franklin told me what these were."

          "Great! So you know how you can talk to anyone anywhere?"

          "Yes..." His brow was furrowed looking at the thing, trying to think of how such a device could do that.

          "Good, so I can skip that part." He put a hand on the phone. "This is a rotary dial phone. It's very old, but I thought if I showed you something older you might get it better."

          "Ok."

          "So how it works is you pick up the phone - " He demonstrated, " - And the hook switch inside connects you to the network. When your phone is attached to the wall jack, it has wires that run out to a box outside full of wires, which lead to the phone company. Then they connect you to the phone number you're calling, which you dial here." He pointed to the rotary. "Do you think you get it?"

          "No, but I'll catch on." He was frustrated now at all the talking he'd already had to endure.

          "Yeah, that's the spirit! So, now I'll show you a cell phone."

          From his pocket, he produces a pretty old flip-phone. "This was mine from a really long time ago." He laughed a little. "I guess I'm not one to be judging what a really long time ago is."

          "Yes, back when I had a wife and children and job and friends was, in fact, a long time ago. Perhaps you want to discuss us going back?"

          The Handler sucked in air through his teeth. He'd just made things pretty awkward for himself. "Uh, maybe later. Right now let's focus on this."

          "I'd rather work on that other task."     

          "Well, I'll just finish this up and I'll think about it."

          John sighed and rested his head in his hand. "Go on then, as if I have a choice."

          "Alright. So, this does the same thing but without the wires and it has buttons. And this - " He took out his iPhone, " - does all that and more, but the buttons are on this screen."

          He put it down on the table for John to examine. Instead, he yawned and stood up. "If you're done here, I'd much like to know where the nearest Unitarian church is here in Chicago."

          The Handler clenched his jaw. "This isn't time for church, it's time to learn how to make calls!"

          He turned around, slightly insulted. "It is Sunday. The Sabbath is a day of rest, and we both ought to be attending services."

          Now he was really angry. "John, you have to know this stuff! You'll never make it in this era if you just go on without trying!"

          "I don't want to 'make it' in _this_ era! I want to go home!"

          "Why? They didn't appreciate you then like we do now!"

          He laughed. "No one appreciates me more than my family. I'm not an idiot. I know I'm nothing like the people here. I need to go back."

          The Handler slapped the phone down on the table. "Figure this out!"

          "I can't be bothered!"

          "Fine!" He collected all the phones he'd brought. "Then don't! I don't give a shit!"

          "The British wished me hanged and still you're the absolute rudest man I've ever met!"

          Huffing, he charged out the door. John slammed it behind him. After a moment or so to gather his thoughts, he put on his coat. He was going to go find a church.


End file.
